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Quitting

There’s an extremely confusing confliction of both happiness and sadness that stems from quitting a job that’s just… Been irking you for the longest time. Picture this, you’ve been working your minimum wage mundane job for a year, maybe two, by now you know the ins and outs of everything. You’re a seasoned veteran of customer service, you know what to press, tap or sometimes lovingly pat to get a machine that’s on the fritz working again. Despite being an expert and being somewhat adored by staff and managers alike, the job is still menial and pointless and you can’t weasel any sort of joy out of it. You often think back to the days when you first started out and learning everything. It was work but… It was kind of fun learning something new.

Eventually it would get to the point where you thought about quitting. Not as an actual option, but just a thought that would cross your mind every once in a while. Shifts stopped flying by and eventually, 8 hours would feel like 12 and 5 hours would feel like 8. You started to notice all the weird little ticks of your customers, like how they were all jerks, or plain rude. Then there’d be the point of no return. Something or someone, whether it be new management, a particularly bad customer or something similar would actually spark the passion and drive in you to quit. And find a new job, of course, since you’re an adult.

And so you would quit. It’d feel great and uplifting and freeing and exciting. Your last shift would swing around and suddenly you feel… Sad. What about all the friends you made along the way? All your coworkers you can still stand, would you ever see them again? Because there was no way in heaven or hell you’d be stepping into this godforsaken place again. What about that one regular customer who didn’t make you want to pull your hair out? What would happen to them? This is what I mean by confusing confliction. I kind of want to equate it to Stockholm Syndrome, but after a long couple years working at a place, even though you’re excited and glad you quit, there’s still some faint hint of gloom that hangs around about leaving a place you spent a small part of your life in.

This is the boat I’m in right now. Have you ever been in a similar situation? Any advice? Send it in to Evolution!